


Miss Jackson

by ElsaFH (Elsa0806)



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I really am, M/M, P!ATD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, actually no, i translated it myself because i'm just that awesome, i'm so sorry about Ichigo, miss jackson, yeah this is a translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5818045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsa0806/pseuds/ElsaFH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>«Where will you be wakin' up tomorrow morning? Climbin' out the back door...»<br/>Maybe he hadn’t done it well. Maybe… maybe something was missing. What could have been missing? A little bit more of love? Did Ichigo need some more dedication? Did he think Grimmjow needed another way to talk about himself? Maybe he finally got tired of his bad humor and his awful sarcasm. Might be… maybe…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miss Jackson

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Miss Jackson](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790646) by [Elsa0806](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsa0806/pseuds/Elsa0806). 



> Well, yeah, hello, this is Elsa... again. Yep. My real name.  
> So... a few days back I uploaded this fanfic called Miss Jackson. Little problem with Miss Jackson is... that one shot is in Spanish. And yeah, I know there's a few Spanish speakers around here, but most of people here are English speakers.  
> And I bet my life you ask yourself... «why the fuck is she rambling like this? Does she have a point?"  
> Fuck yes. I do have a point.  
> My point is that I decided to translate this to English because (why the hell not) I wanted to practice my writing and because I really, really wanted for people to read this. I'm very proud of this one, because this is my first time working with a killer like this.  
> Also, I'm a very hardcore GrimmIchi shipper and... yeah. They're hot as fuck, let me be.  
> If you want to "get into business" with the fanfic, please listen to Miss Jackson, by Panic! At The Disco, while reading this. Lyrics are inside the story, so it might be more comfortable for you to do it that way. Or not. Do whatever you want, man, I'm not your boss.  
> Alrighty, I think that's it. Thank to my dear friend Rebecca for beta reading this. You're as awesome as a fucking fez and a bowtie.  
> Enjoy your reading, guys!

_**Climbing out the back door** _

_**Didn’t leave a mark** _

_**No one knows it’s you Miss Jackson** _

_**Found another victim** _

_**But no one’s gonna find** _

_**Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson** _

__

Grimmjow didn’t know why he was doing this. He tried so hard to give him everything he ever asked for, to make him as happiest as he could be, to change every single aspect of his life that made Ichigo cringe in disapproval. He had tried so damn hard to have a quiet life, both of them in their apartment… just like any happy couple around there.

Maybe he hadn’t done it well. Maybe… maybe something was missing. What could have been missing? A little bit more of love? Did Ichigo need some more dedication? Did he think Grimmjow needed another way to talk about himself? Maybe he finally got tired of his bad humor and his awful sarcasm. Might be… maybe…

No.

None of the above could justify Ichigo cheating on him.

That’s why Grimmjow pursed his lips when Ichigo left the apartment, walking quietly through the street, looking for some club to spend the night. He turned his face away from the place where the love of his life had just disappeared, joining the line to get into the bar from where the music exploded just like the heart of a sleeping giant monster. With nausea rising in his stomach, pushing the bile up in his throat, and choking on his own breath as he turned away completely, Grimmjow rested his back against the brick wall behind him.

Chill went through his clothes, filtering through the fabric and crawling on his skin. He asked himself if the cold was out or _inside_ of him, because he wasn’t able to feel another damn thing more than the lacerating panic, red pain burning his chest like lava. He felt out of breath while trying to discern if the world around him was still solid, or it had just lost all his natural state; maybe it had turned into smoke, coiling just like it would do in some nightmarish dream.

That wasn’t the first time Ichigo cheated on Grimmjow, he knew that perfectly. He had seen him climbing out the back door, running away from him like a thief in the night. He had seen him coming back home, hiding from his eyes, cleaning the evidence of his love sessions with another man. He had seen him checking carefully his clothes looking for some foreign hair, smelling the fabric while trying to find the smell of another perfume that wasn’t Grimmjow’s. Scanning his own skin with thoroughness searching for hickeys made by someone else. Why? Why was Ichigo doing this? And even more important, why was that Grimmjow couldn’t stop loving him, while he was ripping him apart with the same perfection as a surgeon would?

 

_**You put a sour little flavor in my mouth now** _

_**You move in circles hoping no one's gonna find out** _

_**But we're so lucky,** _

_**Kiss the ring and let 'em bow down** _

_**Looking for the time of your life (ain't always gonna find out)** _

 

The vibrant orange hair disappeared from his sight as the orangette entered the club, without noticing he was being followed.

It wasn’t shocking to see how easily Ichigo found some hook up between the patrons. He wasn’t surprised because under the stroboscopic lights and the weed smoke, Ichigo was a vision; a wild fire sliding through the crowd, a god in human flesh. His beautiful and apparently sincere smile going from ear to ear, his big brown doe eyes looking like melted chocolate.

If he looked carefully to the other man, later he didn’t remember. Memories drifted awfully through his head, crystal clear just like he was watching them on some high definition screen. He wanted to laugh at himself, laugh about the fact that he felt so logic now when in that moment he couldn’t even think straight.

His mind was playing cruel games with him, throwing the memories of the sin he had committed to his face, a sin he could never runaway from. His hands were stained with a pain that could never be erased from his skin and his soul.

He followed them closely, making his best effort to be as quiet as possible. Ichigo and his date walked smoothly on the sidewalk, little ice crystals inlaid between the cracks of the pavement. They were laughing, holding hands, so comfortable with each other that Grimmjow couldn’t help but think this wasn’t their first time meeting. He felt more stupid, more humiliated.

The urge to avenge himself, to avenge the so bloodily murdered love between them grew inside his chest, licking his skin the same way as sea waves. Little by little, Grimmjow could feel the burning necessity of letting them know he was there, letting _Ichigo_ know he was there. He wanted Ichigo to know he was able to see him; he craved for Ichigo to understand he knew absolutely everything about his betrayal.

Grimmjow sucked in a deep breath through his nose, blue eyes looking for some chance of a dramatic entrance; because even in the deepest dark of this pit of sorrow, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez couldn’t let aside melodrama.

They stopped facing a motel room door, Ichigo’s date tilting his head down, whispering something in his ear that made Ichigo’s face turn red, a blush spreading all over his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. His eyes glowed the same way they used to when Grimmjow whispered love words under his breath. He laughed then, the sound of his laughter rising like a bell in the middle of the deaf night, shaking his head and answering something Grimmjow wasn’t capable of hearing.

When the other guy tilted his head down and whispered in his ear again, the orangette’s eyes narrowed with such cruelty that made Grimmjow disown Ichigo immediately.  His eyes froze, a fierce scowl appearing on his face as his lips curved into a cruel smile. He said something to the guy then, cold words leaving his mouth that earned him a confused look from his companion.

Ichigo turned on his heels, slamming the room door on his date’s face.

__

_**A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud,** _

_**A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown,** _

_**But back away from the water, babe, you might drown-** _

_**The party isn't over tonight (lighting in your nightgown)** _

 

Grimmjow left a wild grin spread on his face, his upper lip rising and showing a sharp canine capable of ripping flesh apart. His vendetta urges grew like a poisonous bubble inflating inside him. He could feel the pressure upon his lungs, taking the rationality away from him.

Whilst the unknown man walked away on the sideway with a cigarette in his lips, Grimmjow’s blue eyes, cold as ice, followed him until he turned a corner and disappeared. He pondered for a moment about getting his revenge from him, getting a paid for his pain and humiliation from that guy. But even then, Grimmjow’s satisfaction only grew at the thought of doing so with Ichigo; thinking about making him pay made his blood pump through his veins, his heart racing as he was running a marathon and hitting his ribcage like a drum.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking both sides of the lonely street before making his way at an easy pace, smiling calmly when the nausea quieted in his stomach. He was feeling completely rational for the first time since he discovered Ichigo’s betrayal.

Glaring at the blue light filtering through the old curtains of the room next to Ichigo’s, Grimmjow threw the hood of his sweatshirt over his hair. He could see a turned on television through the window, some lazy dude leaning against a reclining chair. He was the disappointment made human, Grimmjow said to himself with an ironical smile on his lips, because he knew that _he_ was currently the perfect picture for disappointment.

But even though he was absolutely fucked up, he wasn’t going to sit on his ass; Grimmjow wasn’t going to let life screw him like this, not without fighting his faith.

A wide grin grew on his face; if he fell, he wasn’t going to fall all by himself. Ichigo was going with _him_.

_**He-eyy** _

_**Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?** _

_**He-eyy** _

_**Out the back door** _

_**Goddamn** _

_**But I love her anyway** _

_**I love her anyway** _

_**I love her anyway** _

_**Out the back door** _

_**Goddamn** _

_**But I love her anyway** _

 

The dark wooden door with brass numbers praying «twenty» appeared in front of his face as it had grown from the pavement. Grimmjow’s blue eyes glared at it carefully, pondering if he should just burst into the room, or knock on the door and make his entrance a little bit more dramatic.

He was going to spend a lot of time alone with his thoughts after he finished his self imposed mission, so he decided he wanted all the drama he could get.

Rising elegantly his right hand, Grimmjow knocked with his knuckles three times on the wooden surface of the door. His heart pumped blood so fast he thought the lazy ass man in the next room was able to hear it even with his television blaring through the speakers. But even when his blood pressure pulsated in the vein behind his ears, beating in the tip of his fingers, he felt surprised when he found himself so chillingly calm. At the thought, Grimmjow almost left out a pleased giggle.

The door opened then, brown doe eyes narrowing and then glowing with surprise. Panic rose behind Ichigo’s chocolate irises like a night butterfly trapped inside a jar. Every color dropped from Ichigo’s face, turning his skin death white, making him look like a pale ghost. His hair, however, burned with the force of a beacon, looking like some kind of cruel joke.

“G’night” Grimmjow greeted softly, smirking.

“Grimmjow” the orangette stuttered, stepping back. How could he have the nerve to be surprised? He had brought that upon himself. People shouldn’t have the right to feel bad about things they caused; it made them look pathetic. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I could ask the same thing” he replied casually, stepping inside the room with a stride. He closed the door carefully behind his back, every move he made filled with so much finesse that even Ichigo was able to see something was wrong with him. Ichigo’s eyes followed every step, every action Grimmjow made, looking at him with his eyes glowing in fear and then avoiding Grimmjow’s gaze even more scared than before.

“I-“

“What a surprise. Yer in a hotel room” Grimmjow kept going, decided to look like a snake with naked fangs. Ichigo looked around; the bottle green bedspread, the cream color curtains, the wooden floor and the Japanese folding screen that seemed like some kind of cruel joke. It was good, the bluenette supposed; Ichigo would have something to remind him home while he paid his debts with his faith. “Why are ya in a hotel room? Do I snore too much in my sleep?”

Kurosaki had the nerve to fucking _giggle_.

“’S not like that. I needed some privacy, y’know… for work”.

“Yeah, I can see yer hella busy”.

Ichigo’s mouth hung open with awe. He felt the danger surfacing Grimmjow’s voice, his smirk and his bright eyes. Kurosaki tried to find a way out only by instinct.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Berry…” Grimmjow murmured slowly, getting closer to him. Kurosaki stepped back, finding suddenly the bathroom door behind his back. He was completely trapped between the wooden surface and the predator moving forward fast end elegantly. “Where will you be wakin’ up tomorrow morning?”

_**Miss Jackson** _

_**Miss Jackson** _

_**Miss Jackson** _

_**Are you nasty?** _

_**Miss Jackson** _

_**Miss Jackson** _

_**Miss Jackson** _

_**Are you nasty?** _

_**Are you nasty?** _

_**I love her anyway** _

 

“What-?”

Grimmjow didn’t expect his own reaction. He thought he was thinking in cold, he believed he was thinking a step forward of his own urges. That’s why he felt as surprised as Ichigo when he closed the space between them with his hands grabbing his neck and his thumbs pressing under his chin, tilting his head back. His lips descended on Ichigo’s with ferocity and hunger, trying to make Ichigo feel the sorrow and the humiliation Grimmjow was feeling through his own skin.

Ichigo moaned into his mouth, writhing against him. His hands wandered over Grimmjow’s chest and abs, trying to find the end of his sweatshirt and t-shirt, looking for the warm skin under the fabric of the clothes.

Grimmjow knew what Ichigo wanted; he wanted to draw the definition of his muscles, he wanted to caress the Adonis lines hiding under the waistband of his jeans.

Not tonight, though. This wasn’t his night; this was _Grimmjow’s_ night.

“Hold on, slut” he hissed against Ichigo’s lips. His eyes were fixed on him fiercely, his hands tightening his grip around his lover’s neck. Ichigo chocked on his own breath, the panic filling his features as he looked back at Grimmjow. “Let’s play a little before everythin’ ends… shall we?”

Grimmjow knew he wanted to ask; he knew Ichigo wanted to know what was he talking about. But the moment seemed so delicious he couldn’t think about wasting time explaining his true intentions. Things were too perfect to throw it all out the window and stop the urgency of enjoying Ichigo one last time before he finished all that.

Grimmjow kissed him again, biting his lower lip. He let his tongue wander all over the wet and warm cavity he already knew as the back of his hand. Ichigo’s saliva tasted like chocolate, sex and treason, and the more he pinned against him, feeling every single of his muscles flexing under his, the more lustful he felt. He ripped his clothes apart, violently getting rid of the shirt and the jacket, dropping them on the floor while his hands traveled without fixed course all over the smooth skin wrapping his body. He always thought Ichigo’s skin felt like silk, soft and frail.

Grimmjow asked himself how easily his skin would rip under his teeth.

Ichigo groaned when he felt Grimmjow’s well known hands descending on his stomach, unbuttoning his belt and jeans. Though his mind made him felt the visceral fear again when the bluenette turned him around violently, getting rid of his underwear and leaving him completely naked.

“Oh, well, look at that” the bluenette murmured against the crook of Ichigo’s neck. He reached around Ichigo’s hips, gripping his semi erection and closing his fingers around it. Grimmjow felt Ichigo’s body trembling against his when he stroked softly. A lewd moan fell from the orangette’s lips, making Grimmjow’s shaft throb and twitch against his boxers. “I didn’t leave this hickey, Ichigo”.

Grimmjow’s tongue slipped over the dark hickey that looked more like a bruise, biting the dark colored skin with more strength than it was necessary. Kurosaki moaned, trapped between pain and pleasure, shuddering and writhing in Grimmjow’s grip.

“N-No” Ichigo tried to protest, throwing his head back when a new stroke broke his voice, “Gri- aah…”

“Thinkin’ ‘bout that” Grimmjow kept going, “I haven’t fucked ya since last week. Isn’t it a little weird ya have recent marks?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” Ichigo’s voice shivered like a leaf at wind’s mercy, his hips undulating in Grimmjow’s fist.

“You’ve been cheatin’ on me for so long, Berry” the bluenette giggled under his breath. Grimmjow undid his own belt with his free hand, the jeans button releasing with a loud ‘pop’. His zipper rustled when his fingers pulled it down. “So long, Berry…”

That caused the most delicious groan to let Kurosaki’s mouth. The sound was so arousing that Grimmjow felt if he didn’t slammed all the way inside him, he might die. He didn’t care about preparing him; he just let fall a few drops of saliva on the palm of his hand, spreading it along his dick, pressing the tip against Ichigo’s entrance without a care in the world.

“Grimmjow, _please…_ ” the orangette whined, trying to get away from him. The hot pain spreading all over his lower back filled his vision with red, his nails digging worthlessly into the white painting of the wall. Grimmjow’s hands gripped his hips, keeping him in place while he pushed as far as he could inside of him, a silent and husky laugh echoing inside his chest. “Grimm- nhnn!”

Without giving a shit about Ichigo’s whining of pain, Grimmjow moved back, almost leaving him completely empty. He slammed all the way in again, clenching his jaw and feeling euphoric for the first time in a really long time. Ichigo’s passage adjusted around his cock in a way that had Grimmjow thinking that maybe Kurosaki was built to be his, the muscles wrapping his shaft so tight that the pleasure drowned him as he thrusted as deep as he could go.

Kurosaki’s body was a mess of pain and pleasure; he felt guilty about liking the way the ache jumbled with the mind numbing pleasure. As Grimmjow thrusted in and out of him like he was just a puppet, Ichigo could feel his cock throbbing and twitching, begging for attention.

“Guess what” Jaegerjaquez sighed in his hear, grabbing a handful of orange hair and pressing his back against Ichigo’s. “Yer not wakin’ up tomorrow.”

Ichigo felt fear and releasing exploding inside of him at the same time when Grimmjow buried himself balls deep inside of the orangette, his hands stroking his dick a few times until his seed spilled all over the blunette’s fist. Cries of pleasure and pain fell from his lips as his body trembled and the knot in his belly broke.

_**Ohhhh** _

_**Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?** _

_**Ohhhh** _

_**Out the back door** _

_**Goddamn** _

_**But I love her anyway** _

_**I love her anyway** _

_**I love her anyway** _

_**Out the back door** _

_**Goddamn** _

_**But I love her anyway** _

 

For a moment, for a single second, Ichigo really believed Grimmjow was done with him. He feared for his life, Grimmjow’s words echoing inside his skull over and over again. He opened his eyes again while the numbing fog of the afterglow started to dissipate. Never in all the years they’ve been together as a couple, the bluenette had had treated him like this; he had never fucked him as fierce as this. He didn’t want to feel it again; the ache, even though mixed with the mind blowing pleasure, was too much for him to handle.

“What? Ya think yer done?” Grimmjow hissed, his voice caressing Ichigo’s ears as dangerous as a knife. “Don’t even think ‘bout it.”

With violence, Grimmjow lifted him up and pinned him onto the mattress. He slammed inside him again, earning a cry of pain from Ichigo. A manic grin lifted the corner of his lips as he looked at the orangette’s face filled with terror while his hand gripped dangerously around Ichigo’s neck to keep him in place.

“ _Grimm”_ Ichigo begged, worthlessly scratching his wrist. “Please, don’t…”

The only answer he got was a low groan from Grimmjow, his dick sliding against his prostate strong enough to blow away any coherent thought from his mind. It hurt like a bitch, but it felt so fucking _right…_

And while orgasm stepped on Grimmjow’s heels, the grip around Ichigo’s neck stared to tighten, crushing his windpipe and making the process of breathing a titanic effort. His eyes widened in surprise, his hands trying to reach him without any effect.

“Traitor” Grimmjow moaned, tears of hatred pooling in the corner of his blue eyes. “Traitor…”

“G-Grimm” Ichigo tried to say, choking while Grimmjow’s hand pressed harder. 

“I love you anyway” the bluenette spitted out, leaning in and digging his teeth through the skin that covered his jugular. Whilst oxygen left completely the love of his life’s lungs and releasing took everything away from him, his teeth broke the frail skin covering the swam like neck of Ichigo, warm heating his tongue as Kurosaki’s blood filled his mouth.

Feeling like he was suspended upon Ichigo’s body, Grimmjow spitted out the blood that had pooled into his mouth, his white and sharp teeth now looking pink because of the scarlet liquid dripping from his lips.

He straightened up, stepping back and leaving Ichigo empty without any care, fixing his underwear and jeans. His hands stained with blood left prints of his finger tips all over the grey fabric of his pants, staining his hair when he ran his fingers through his baby blue locks. Grimmjow’s eyes glowed in the middle of the soft light coming from the nightstand lamp, making him look like a maniac. A psychotic laughter bubbled into his chest, falling from his lips and shaking his shoulders.

He could feel the burning desire of ripping his lover’s skin apart. Grimmjow wanted to divest with his bare teeth Ichigo’s body of that silk like skin, which color hadn’t started to fade yet. That peach like color skin that had always made him feel like crazy. He found himself tasting Ichigo’s blood on his tongue, feeling more lust for the scarlet liquid than he had felt for his owner.

Another burst of laughter, blood dripping from his lips like he was some sort of wolf in the middle of hunting.

His hand trembled frantically, his heartbeat pumping the adrenaline filled blood everywhere through his body. Laughter kept bubbling into his chest, the sound shaking like it was just about to break in half. His knees threatened with bend under the overwhelming weight of his own body and his awful sin.

It was just that Ichigo had left the apartment without leaving a single mark… no one was ever gonna find him. _Never_.

_**Climbing out the back door** _

_**Didn't leave a mark** _

_**No one knows it's you Miss Jackson** _

_**Found another victim** _

_**But no one's gonna find** _

_**Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson** _

 

Police sirens screamed in the distance while Grimmjow giggled one last time, resting his back against the wall and sliding down. He sat down against the wall, looking for his cigarettes packet inside one of his jeans pockets. He took one of the white cigars, lighting it up, his fingers leaving red marks all over the filter. Breathing the smoke, a wide grin lifted the corner of his lips.

“Where will you be wakin’ up tomorrow morning, Ichigo? Climbin’ out the back door… I love you anyway.”

Police burst into the motel room, knocking down the door with a blare and shaking the entire bedroom.

“Police! Keep your hands where I can see them!” someone shouted.

“Climbin’ out the backdoor” Grimmjow giggled softly, sounding like a child.


End file.
